


This Was Not In the Domestic Policy

by The_Problematic_Blender



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Astronomy, Falling In Love, Forbidden Love, Idiots in Love, Kings & Queens, M/M, Magic, Magic-Users, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Princes & Princesses, Rebellion, Revolution, Sneakiness, Sneaking, Sneaking Around, Sneaking Out, Swordfighting, Swords, Wizards
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2018-12-31 12:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12132390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Problematic_Blender/pseuds/The_Problematic_Blender
Summary: The prince of one of the most powerful kingdoms and the younger brother of a king deemed insane for his harsh ways happens to fall for one of the leaders of the rebellion after a chance encounter.Maybe rebels aren't that bad after all.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Another fucking unfinished series. Kill me.
> 
> This is a shit chapter I know just hold out for the next one trust me it'll be worth it.

"I need a room for the night." Says the person that just walked into the inn, he has a foreign accent.

The innkeeper looks surprised. "That'll set you back forty gold."

"Forty?" He asks, outrage in his voice as he pulls out a small coin bag. "Highest price I've ever paid for a night."

"There's a reason why we don't get many visitors up here." She chuckles before dropping her voice low. "Well, that and our King, but they're pretty similar."

"Yeah, I've heard horror stories about him." He says as he delivers forty gold pieces. "I didn't want to come through here, but the mountain pass is blocked and I can't make it somewhere else before nightfall."

"Just keep to yourself, don't start any trouble, and stay in the inn, and you'll be fine." She advises, pulling a key out of her pocket and setting it on the counter.

"Trust me, I'm not doing anything risky." The traveler says. "But, uh, the king, are the stories about him true?"

The woman shrugs. "Rumors all stem from truth." Her words are more unsettling than any straight answer could be.

The foreigner looks down at the metal key, voice quiet and nervous. "Do you think he's everything the rumors say he is?"

"I thought you said you weren't gonna do anything risky?" The innkeeper ask, glaring at the visitor. They stand in silence for a few seconds. "Well," The foreigner supresses a grin; innkeepers were always ready to gossip, it didn't matter what town they were in. Her voice was nearly inaudible. "I like to believe that his younger brother humanizes him."

"That's insane."

She shrugs. "Maybe."

* * *

"Uh, sirs?" The maid asks, looking down at the two. "The diplomats are here."

Ryan's currently on top of Trevor, holding him down to try and take his crown back. Trevor is on his stomach, left arm outstreched completely, vise grip on the ornate crown of the king as his right hand was used to try and pull himself out from underneath Ryan. They both look at the maid with looks that remind the maid of children caught with stolen sweet rolls.

"Tell them I'll be there in just a minute." Ryan says.


	2. Chapter One - The Raid

Trevor _hated_ attending meetings.

It's not like Trevor's input was more important than Ryan's; no one looked to Trevor for advice, they only looked to Trevor to avoid when Ryan's face took on any sort of negative emotion, and during meetings, Trevor could only give them a bored expression and the smallest shrug.

The only reason Trevor had to attend these meetings was because Ryan wanted Trevor to be ready for the day Ryan dies and he has to take over the throne, which Trevor knows won't happen. Everyone was too afraid to even consider trying to assassinate the king that wasn't afraid to use unpopular and tortuous methods of punishments from other countries. It was far more likely that Ryan married some pretty duchess or wealthy princess that shared his flair for dramatics and she would be due to bear an heir within a year of the wedding.

Trevor wasn't paying attention to what anyone was talking about, hell, even the guards posted around the perimeter of the room weren't paying attention. There was a male and female diplomat from some kingdom of very little importance that wanted to kiss up to Ryan. They probably wanted trade, which was going to be damn near impossible to do with the huge mountain range between the two kingdoms in question.

Trevor dips his tea bag in and out of the tea water with an absent mind. The maids rarely served tea with the tea bags still in, but Trevor liked his tea strong and with nothing in it, something Ryan called him a barbarian for. The tea was well past drinkable, but he needed something to do to keep himself from absolutely losing it. Trevor wanted to jam his teaspoon into his eye just to break the monotony.

Luckily, someone does it for him.

Break the monotony, not jam a teaspoon in his eye.

The sounds of explosions are in the muffled distance as the tea cups shake from the tremors. The guards unsheathe their swords as the diplomats look around, eyes filled with crippling fear. "What was that!?" The lady diplomat exclaims.

"Captain, get our guests to a secured location." Ryan orders the captain of the guard, standing up from his seat. He almost looks relieved for the interruption. Trevor doesn't blame him. “I want the rest of the guard to investigate what happened.”

"What about you two, sir?" The captain asks. “You need-”

“Our personal guards will do just fine.” Ryan cuts him off. “Now go.”

The captain gingerly obeys the command. “Aye. C’mon you two.” The guards file out of the room while the two diplomats stand and hurry over to the captain, on his heels and scared out of their minds.

“What's going on?” Trevor asks, finally standing himself.

“No idea.” Ryan admits with a sigh, heading to the door where his personal guard stood waiting. “Stay safe.”

“You too.” Trevor replies before Ryan and his guard disappears down the hall. It was a rule that in times of siege against the castle, the royal family had to be split up, to ensure that there's at least one person that could take the throne. Trevor hated that rule with a burning passion.

“Your highness, we should go as well.” The last remaining guard says, looking at Trevor expectantly.

“I know, Bentley.” Trevor says with near exasperation. Bentley had been Trevor’s personal guard for as long as Trevor could remember, and his graying hair and patient wrinkled face shows it. Trevor never liked Bentley that much. He was kind, but he always stayed distant enough for Trevor to never make a connection with him for nearly two decades.

Bentley leads Trevor to one of the castle’s safe rooms, hurrying down the halls as fast as a nearly retired soldier in heavy armor could hurry. They round the corner of the hall and are greeted by a man dressed in all black, from his shoes to his undershirt. It was a member of the rebellion, no doubtedly, especially when the man pulls his longsword from his sheath. The rebels must have caused that explosion.

“Hand over the prince and nothing bad will happen to you.” The rebel says.

Bentley draws his sword and pushes Trevor behind him, so he's in between the two. “That's not going to happen.”

“Shame.” The rebel says before he lunges for Bentley. Trevor backs up to the wall as the two duel, swords clashing together with violent intentions. There's nothing Trevor could do to assist Bentley, as Trevor never learned how to sword fight; Ryan refused to let him learn and had avoided giving him a reasoning for years now. All Trevor could do was watch in worry as the two fought.

The rebel manages to trip Bentley, sending him spiraling to the floor. Before Bentley could recover, the rebel drives his sword through his exposed flesh, and Trevor grits his teeth and averts his eyes, trying to remember where the closest safe room was. If he could run to one, or maybe into some guards, maybe he'll make it out of this situation alive.

“Alright, princey,” The rebel says, pulling out his sword and looking towards Trevor. Trevor meets his gaze, staring into his cold and dark eyes before glancing down at the rebel’s blood coated sword. “any last words?”

This was it. Trevor was going to die at this rebel’s hands. The only way he could somehow live to see tomorrow is if a gift from a God came down to protect Trevor-

“Hey, dipshit!” Someone yells, catching both Trevor and the rebel’s attention as he hurried down the hall. It's someone Trevor doesn't recognize. “Are you a fucking moron!?”

“Excuse me?” The rebel asks in response.

“What do you think will happen if the king finds out that his brother was murdered during the raid?” The other man asks once he's within earshot of the two. “Do you think that we’re gonna get stronger after word gets out that we killed the kingdom’s fucking favorite person? Or do you think that they're gonna resent us and snuff us out around town?”

So this man was a rebel. He certainly wasn't dressed like the other rebel, he was wearing undyed leather armor, which was much more practical than the other guy. Two ribbons were tied around his left bicep, one orange and one brown, both worn and faded. There was cloth over his mouth and nose, freckles peeking out from underneath. His brown curls were short and carefully groomed in such a way that said “I spent more effort on this than my personality would have you believe.” His brown eyes had a fire to them, and that fire was probably anger, given the current conversation.

“I don't take orders from you, Jones.” The rebel clad in black spat.

“What the fuck do you mean, I'm your god damned superior!” The other rebel, Jones, exclaims.

“I have direct orders from my _actual_ boss, and it's if you see someone of importance, you send a message to the king about how serious we are about the revolution.”

“And you think this is going to make everything easier for us?” Jones asks. “Does he think this is going to make things easier for us?”

“I'm going to kill the prince,” The rebel states with over-enunciation. “and you're not going to stop me.”

Before the rebel could make a move towards Trevor, Jones pulls a dagger from the Gods know where and jams it into the rebel’s pale throat, shocking Trevor. Is this what the rebellion is like? People just turning on each other like starving animals? Killing their own for having different ideas?

“You okay?” Jones asks after he has pulled his dagger from the rebel’s throat and the rebel’s body has collapsed on the floor, and it takes a moment for Trevor to realize that he is talking to him.

Trevor looks at Jones, trying to analyze his intentions. His eyes hold concern, which baffles Trevor, why would a rebel be concerned about the prince? “Yes.” Trevor answers. His heart is beating like crazy from adrenaline.

“Good.” Jones tucks his dagger back where it came from, despite the blood still covering the blade. “Why the hell aren't you armed?”

“Why do you care?”

“I can't save your ass every time you're in trouble, it’ll ruin my reputation as a rebel.” Jones says. Trevor can tell he's smiling from underneath the cloth covering, and despite himself, Trevor starts smiling too.

Trevor manages to fight the corners of his mouth down again before he speaks again. “Why did you save me?”

“Can't let a pretty face like that go to waste six feet underground.” Jones answers, and Trevor can feel his face burn from his words. Before Trevor is forced to come up with a defense to stutter out, there's the sound of guards yelling out something as they round the corner. Jones glances at the guards before looking back to Trevor, winking at him, and taking off in a full sprint down the hall in the opposite direction. Trevor's face burns hotter as he watched Jones run off.

“Prince Trevor, sir, are you okay?” One of the guards asks once they approach him. Two more continue down the hall to presumably find Jones. “Were you hurt?”

“Yeah,” Trevor responds, still watching down the hall, as if Jones would reappear from behind the corner for some reason. He belatedly realizes that the guard asked two questions, and he tears his gaze away to look at the guard. “yeah I'm okay. I wasn't hurt.”

“Good.” The guard says, turning to give orders to the one other guard left. “Tell the captain of Bentley’s departure and that the prince is accounted for.”

“Aye.” The other guard says, taking his leave.

As Trevor follows the first guard to a safe room, he realizes that his heart wasn't beating that hard because of adrenaline, and Trevor doesn't know what to do with that information.


	3. Chapter Two - The Trio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fact that I'm updating this on a regular basis is creating unrealistic expectations and I'd like to apologize for that.

“You need to choose a new-”

“Jeremy.”

Ryan sighs, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Trevor-”

“He's one of the best soldiers in the battalion, Ryan, he's more than capable of protecting me.” Trevor justifies.

“That's not what I'm worried about.” Ryan says. “I'm worried you two will goof off and it'll end up in you both regretting it.” Trevor hears Ryan muttering under his breath about one of them regretting it more and Trevor rolls his eyes.

“Ryan, if my personal guard is also my friend, don't you think he would have more incentive to protect me?” Trevor asks, and Ryan frowns as he thinks.

“I suppose you have a point.” Ryan says, and Trevor grins to himself in victory. “But if any issue arise, I am going to send him to the front lines.”

“There won't be any issues.” Trevor guarantees with a smile.

“Uh huh, sure.” Ryan says.

Ryan and Trevor were observing the workers that were patching the gaping hole in the wall caused by the rebel’s raid yesterday. It wasn't necessary for them to overlook it, but it was a place to talk without a big hubbub be made about it. Ryan had a meeting with the captain of the guard to boost the security of the castle soon, so in the meantime, Trevor and Ryan could speak semi-privately. It's not like the workers would gossip about Trevor’s choice in personal guard.

“Trevor, I have a question.”

“I have an answer.”

“So, from what I was told, Bentley had a fairly quick death. He was killed by the rebel that had his throat slashed.” Ryan says. “How did the rebel die?”

Trevor was wrong. He didn't have an answer.

Well, that wasn't _entirely_ true.

“There was a second rebel.” Trevor answered, eyes fixed on the worker that clearly couldn't lift up the wood beam by himself, but damn was he persistent. “Bentley killed one of them before he was killed.” The lie doesn't come out as smoothly as it should, and Ryan notices when the lie snags.

“Really?” Ryan asks, looking at Trevor. Trevor keeps watching the worker.

“I'm sorry, were you there?” Trevor asks. Ryan is silent in response. “Ah, I see. I thought you were there for a second since you apparently know more than I do about the situation.”

“Alright, alright.” Ryan says, trying to ease the situation. “I have to go to the meeting. Why don't you pull Jeremy from rotation and do whatever you want before lunch.”

“Really?” Trevor asks, sounding more excited than he intended.

“Yeah, you've earned it.” Ryan clasps Trevor's shoulder. The worker drops the beam with a loud clatter, getting the attention of everyone in the vicinity.

* * *

“Lieutenant.” Trevor greets as he enters the lieutenant’s office. The lieutenant looks up from his work on his desk, looking at Trevor with a surprised expression.

“Prince Collins, your royal highness.” The lieutenant quickly stands to attention, and Trevor has to fight to roll his eyes. “How can I be of assistance?”

“I need you to relieve Private Dooley from all of his current duties.” Trevor answers.

“Your highness, I understand that you two were friends when you were young, but I'm afraid-”

“This is an issue regarding my personal guard, Lieutenant.” Trevor cuts him off.

“Oh.” The lieutenant says. “Alright, well, wait here.” He walks past Trevor and out the door, going to fetch Jeremy.

The small office was chocked full with maps and diagrams, the walls completely covered in the parchments. Trevor gets closer to examine them all. The map of the surrounding kingdoms has writing all over it, ink staining the paper as it revealed the weaknesses of the other kingdoms. Beside it is a dissection of different swords; longswords, rapiers, broadswords, some Trevor didn't recognize; the penmanship was not the best. A map of the kingdom posted on the wall as well, more scribbled writing to unofficially label it, everything from where the slums were to where the kingdom’s whistleblowers regulared.

Trevor looks to the lieutenant’s desk, looking at what he was working on, and fills with slight disappointment when he realizes it's a letter to the lieutenant’s wife. He thought it was going to be something work related.

The door opens and Trevor quickly recoils away from the desk, putting on an air of nonchalant like he wasn't poking around the lieutenant’s office just now. “Does your brother know of your new guard?” The lieutenant asks Trevor as he enters the office, returning to his desk.

“Does he know Jeremy?” Trevor asks, confused by the easily answered question.

“Does he know that he's your new guard.” The lieutenant clarifies.

“Yes, he does.”

“Good. Dooley is just getting changed, you can go wait outside the barracks, if you'd like.” The lieutenant says as he sits back down.

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Trevor says, taking his leave.

“It was my pleasure, your highness.” The lieutenant calls after Trevor as he closes the door behind him.

The barracks weren't far from the lieutenant’s office, in fact, it was the opposite of far. It was the next room over. The bottom floor of the south wing of the castle was devoted to the royal guard, the barracks close to the main entrance of the castle for security reasons.

Trevor pretends to be interested in the painting of his great-great-great-grandfather as he waits for Jeremy, which thankfully isn't long; guards have to be notoriously quick changing into armor. The door to the barracks swing open, and Trevor looks to see Jeremy, a smile on his face. “Did Ryan really okay this?”

“Yep.” Trevor says, grinning himself.

“He's an absolute madman.” Jeremy says before laughter escapes him. “What's first on the agenda today?”

“I have nothing official until lunch, so I say we go bother Matt.” Trevor says.

“An excellent decision, your royal highness.” Jeremy says dramatically, bending at the waist to bow in respect. Trevor laughs as the ridiculous display.

Trevor grew up with two friends in the castle. Jeremy was one of them. His father was an adventurer while his mother was a cook in the castle, meaning that Jeremy grew up in the castle, helping out in the kitchen from a young age. When Trevor was a curious child hellbent on figuring out everything about everything, he found his way to the kitchen and met Jeremy, and they instantly clicked. The two soon did everything together.

Matt was the other friend. Matt was one of the few children in the world to be recognized by a God, meaning he was blessed with magical powers. Like everyone that was recognized, Matt was employed as the apprentice of the last recognized person, who, more often than not, was the court wizard. Trevor and Jeremy both thought that Matt was a super smart and cool older kid (they'd later learn that he was only a year older than Jeremy, the youngest of the two), and they both followed Matt around whenever he had free time. Their childish adoration eventually faded away the more they got to know Matt, and the three formed a genuine friendship together.

Years later, and the three were still best friends. Sure, they weren't supposed to goof off now that they were adults, but that didn't stop them in the slightest.

“Matt!” Jeremy yells as he kicks open the door to Matt’s alcove of a room. Matt curses in surprise as he jumps, and there's the sound of glass breaking. “Shit, uh, my bad.”

“It's fine, dude.” Matt says, levitating the glass shards off the floor and into the air, a faint dark blue aura surrounding the shards as he did so.

“Look what you did, Jeremy!” Trevor says in a jokingly accusationary tone as he enters the room and shuts the door behind him. “You broke Matt’s glass thing and now it's ruined _forever!”_

Jeremy shoves Trevor. “You told me to do it, dick. But seriously, is it okay?”

“It's already fixed.” Matt says, putting the finishing touches on the magic mending he just performed on the empty glass bottle.

“Oh. Cool.” Jeremy says.

“What are you guys doing here anyway?” Matt asks as he sets the bottle down on the table. “Aren't you supposed to be on-duty, Jeremy?”

“Jeremy’s my new personal guard.” Trevor answers.

“What happened to Bentley?” Matt asks.

Trevor and Jeremy both look at him in disbelief.

“What?”

“Did you seriously not hear?” Jeremy asks.

“No?”

“Bentley died protecting Trevor during the raid.”

“What raid?”

Trevor groans. “Matt, you're hopeless.”

“Look, it's quiet up here and no one comes by ever, you can't blame me for that.” Matt justifies. Matt’s room was tucked away on the third floor, a floor that was as small as one wing of the castle and no longer in everyday use. The only notable feature was a small courtyard in the middle, and Matt is the only one that tends to it, as it was claimed as the castle wizard’s garden ages ago.

“Did you hear that explosion yesterday?” Jeremy asks.

“Yeah?”

“The rebels blew part of the west wing to hell to do… well no one really knows right now, but they killed some of the guards.”

“Oh yeah, yeah that makes sense now. That's crazy.” Matt says, a moment of silence following his words as he thought. “Wait, if Bentley died, that means that the rebel lived.” Matt looks to Trevor. “How the fuck did you not die?”

At some point, the three all made it over to Matt's large bed, sitting on it together like they did when they were kids. They often did this in their juvenile age as well, but that was usually followed by gossiping like they were chambermaids, which in reality, was probably where the three picked it up from.

“There's rumors going around the barracks that there was a second rebel, but apparently they weren't attacking you." Jeremy adds.

Trevor unfolds and folds his legs a different way, a subtle nervous habit that Trevor had spent years trying to stop doing it, and he rarely did it anymore, but he had been thinking of the altercation yesterday nonstop since it happened. The castle doctors had agreed that Trevor being distracted afterwards was due to the “sudden trauma” of losing Bentley and almost losing his own life, and deemed that he'd be fine eventually. Trevor didn't correct them. “This is going to sound completely insane, but he killed the other rebel.”

“You're right, it does sound completely insane.” Matt replies.

Trevor ignores him. “The first rebel killed Bentley and the second one killed the first one.”

“Why the hell would a rebel save you?” Jeremy asks.

“Well, he told the other rebel that me dying would cause more harm than good, because of Ryan and the fact that I'm beloved by the people.” Trevor says. “The first rebel was hellbent on killing me, so the other rebel stabbed him in the throat.”

“He _slit_ his throat.” Jeremy corrects.

“Whatever, I don't know murder terminology.” Trevor says in his defense.

“It's not-”

“What did he do afterwards?” Matt interrupts Jeremy, steering the conversation back on course and avoiding a petty argument over semantics.

“It was really weird, but I think he started flirting with me?” Trevor says.

“You're shitting me.” Jeremy says. “You’ve got to be fucking with us.”

“I'm not! I swear!” Trevor insists. “He said that he saved me because my face was too pretty to be six feet underground and he fucking _winked_ at me.”

“Dude, he was definitely flirting with you.” Matt says.

“Yeah, and I was just standing there because what does one do when someone who is supposed to hate you beyond reason starts flirting with you?” Trevor says, question rhetorical. There's a beat of silence, Matt and Jeremy looking at Trevor with sober expressions. “What?” Trevor asks.

“You like him, don't you?” Jeremy asks, careful to not make the question sound like an accusation.

“What?” Trevor sputters. “Of course not!”

“Oh gods, you do.”

“I don't!”

“Bullshit, you're blushing!”

“Because it was an embarrassing moment and nothing else!”

“Then why are you getting so defensive?” Matt asks.

“Maybe it's because you're both insisting that I would ever be even remotely interested in a god damned rebel, Matthew!” Trevor exclaims, anger and annoyance in his tone.

“Trevor,” Jeremy starts. “if you can look me in the eye and tell me that you have absolutely no interest in this guy, then we will both drop it right now.”

“I never agreed-”

“We will both drop it.” Jeremy repeats as he cuts Matt off abruptly, looking at him with a serious look.

“Okay, fine.” Matt relents, crossing his arms.

Jeremy looks back at Trevor, and Trevor looks him in the eyes. All he had to say was that he had absolutely no interest in the rebel. He could do that. He's a convincing liar, this shouldn't be a-

Fuck.

“You do like him!” Jeremy exclaims, and Trevor belatedly realized that he actually did swear and look away.

“Fuck off!” Trevor responds, hiding his face with his hands.

Matt groans. “Trevor, you're hopeless.” It was Trevor's own words being thrown back at him. Okay, he deserved that.

“Do you at least know who he is?” Jeremy asks.

“Not really.” Trevor says, pulling his head back up. “The other rebel called him Jones, though.”

“Jones?” Jeremy asks with incredulous. “Did he have curly hair and brown eyes?”

“Yeah.”

Jeremy raises his arms up in disbelief. “Good going! You have a thing for one of the fucking leaders of the rebellion!”

Trevor covers his face again and makes a distressed noise.

“Why does everything have to be ‘go big or go home’ with you!?” Matt yells.


	4. Chapter Three - The Study

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I see you there, reading my pilot fic, then commenting here instead.
> 
> Here’s a chapter for your trouble.

“There's rumors going around that the rebellion has split apart.” Jon, Ryan's advisor, says at lunch that day.

“Oh?” Ryan vocalizes what Trevor was thinking.

“Yeah, some sort of disagreement among the leaders.”

“Well that would make our lives easier.” Ryan muses.

“Wouldn't them being split into two groups make them more of a threat?” Trevor speaks up.

“How do you figure?” Ryan asks. Ryan liked to ask that whenever Trevor would challenge him. If it was anyone else, Ryan would shut them down before they even got a chance to finish their question. Ryan learned long ago that Trevor saw the world differently than him, and that his train of thought was often valuable.

“Well, they now have two recruitment campaigns, and they have a more definitive point.” Trevor says. “If they split apart due to something like being peaceful or being violent, then people who may not have joined the rebellion because it's too violent may join the peaceful group. That means that overall, there's more rebels, and while they're split apart now, they might compromise at some point and be a force to be reckoned with before we could stop it.”

Ryan nods. “That will have to be put into consideration, but I doubt a peaceful group will cause much of an issue for us.”

Trevor doesn't argue, he had better things to do. “May I be dismissed?”

“You may.” Ryan says. “You’re also free to do whatever you please for the rest of the day, you’ve been working hard lately, you deserve a break.”

“Thank you.” Trevor stands and heads into the kitchen, startling many of the kitchen help.

“Jeremy!” Trevor calls as he looks around the kitchen. “Let’s go!” Jeremy’s head pokes out from behind one of the cooks. Trevor watches in slight disbelief as Jeremy shoves a handful of veal into his mouth, thank the cook (who was most likely his mother) through the veal, and hurry over to Trevor. “I’m amazed that you didn’t choke.” Trevor comments.

Jeremy takes a moment to chew and swallow the food in his mouth before answering. “That’s not the only thing you’ll be amazed I don’t choke on.” Jeremy jokes, and Trevor lets out a sputter of a laugh.

“Alright, c’mon, I’ve got work to do.” Trevor says.

Work, in this instance, wasn’t Trevor’s royal duties. Rather, it was a project Trevor has been working on for years in his study. The study was the only other room on the third floor that was in use, across the courtyard from Matt’s room. Trevor was a teenager when Ryan finally relented and allowed Trevor to use the space for private study, and since then, Trevor spent more time in the study than he did his room.

Trevor opens the door, the smell of parchment and ink wafting out into the hall. Trevor walks into the room with a spring in his step. The last few weeks have been busy, too busy for Trevor to work on his project, and so finally having a break from being Ryan’s second shadow was a blessing for him.

“Do you want me to come in?” Jeremy asks.

Trevor turns to look at Jeremy with an eyebrow raised. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” Trevor asks.

“We’re supposed to ask for permission for this sort of thing.” Jeremy clarifies as he enters, closing the door behind him. Trevor doesn’t respond to that, just going back to pick up where he left off weeks ago.

The study was the definition of organized chaos. There’s an insane amount of books, most stored on bookshelves that covered the walls entirely. The many that aren’t on shelves are in stacks on tables. Some are splayed open, turned to random pages that Trevor needed at one point. There’s a few chairs around the room, only three were free of a stack of books on it. In the middle of the room, there’s a table with a large piece of parchment on it, Trevor’s writing all over it. There’s smaller papers on a table next to it, looking like fragments of the larger parchment.

“It’s almost done.” Trevor says with a grin.

“I know you and Matt have told me about a hundred times what that is, but I can’t remember it for the life of me.” Jeremy comments, peering at the parchment.

“It’s a star map.” Trevor explains. “It maps out all the bright stars in the night wsky.”

“Why?” Jeremy asks. “What’s the point of making it?”

“As far as I know, no one has ever made a star map before. People only charted out small constellations.” Trevor nods to a pile of books on the chair closest to the table. Trevor always had a fascination with the night sky, and would always ask for books regarding the subject. “All I need to do is map a few more stars and then it’ll be done.”

“Then what will you do with it?”

“I’ll probably ask Ryan to have someone send it to Lidoryc.” Trevor says. Lidoryc was the most scientifically advanced kingdom, and where Trevor got most of his books. Trevor’s natural curiosity and wish to learn singlehandedly brought the two kingdoms together, something Ryan finds utterly ridiculous.

Trevor starts working on the map, taking the smaller papers he used to copy down the stars in the sky and cross checking them before he dared touch the pen sitting in the inkwell. He barely had ten minutes of silence before it was broken by Jeremy. “What are you going to do about it?”

“About what?”

“The whole… situation.”

“I’m not thinking about that right now.”

“Trevor, buddy, as great as a liar you may be, I still know how you operate.”

“How do I operate, Jeremy?” Trevor stands and looks at Jeremy. His tone was walking the line of curious and annoyed.

“You bury your problems with work.” Jeremy’s tone is flat. “Like maybe if you just worked really hard on one part of your life, a different part would straighten itself out. You’ve done this for years, it isn’t exactly a wild guess that you’re doing it now.”

“Gods, I hate you sometimes.” Trevor scowls. Jeremy let’s out the quietest laugh. “There’s nothing I can really do about it.”

“So you’re not going to disappear in the night to find him?” Jeremy asks.

“Are you asking as my friend or my guard?” Trevor returns.

“There shouldn’t be a difference, but if by guard you mean snitch, then as your friend.”

“I don’t even know how I would find him, Jeremy, it’s not like the rebellion’s base is common knowledge, and besides, the rebellion is splitting apart, which means I have even less of a chance to find him. And even _then,_ what do I do? Like I just see him and go ‘hey remember when you saved my life and then flirted with me? Turns out that made me fucking gay for you’? I can’t just do that!”

Jeremy sighs. “Look, I’m just making sure you don’t do anything stupid. Ryan would kill you and then me if he even _heard_ rumors about you talking to a rebel.”

“Stop freaking out, Ryan’s not that bad.” Trevor says, turning back to the table. He shuffles through the parchments he was using earlier, looking for one in particular. “Did I leave it outside?” Trevor mutters to himself, more shuffling answering his question. Trevor groans. “I left one of the maps outside, I’m going to go grab it quickly.”

“Stay safe.” Jeremy calls after Trevor as he heads to the balcony doors. The balcony was tiny, there was barely enough space for Trevor to stand, meaning that there was absolutely no workspace there. Luckily, the roof of his study was flat and expansive, giving him enough space to stretch out with all his maps. The way up there was a little precarious; one had to pull themselves onto and balance on the balcony railing, grab onto the edge of the roof (which was nearly an entire arm’s length away), place your foot in the little nook in the wall, and pull yourself up and onto the roof. Jeremy was petrified of falling, so he never volunteered to join Trevor.

Trevor pulls himself up onto the roof and nearly falls off again with a startled yelp when he saw what was waiting for him up there.

“It rained last night, and your paper didn’t do so well.” Jones says with cool nonchalance, like he was supposed to be up on the castle roof.


	5. Update One

Hey AO3 decided to delete my original fic for violating the tos so this will be on hiatus until I either stop being mad at it or AO3 can give me a justifiable reason why my fic gets reported for being non fanwork when 35k other fics are original works just running free

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos, comment, subscribe, you know the drill.


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